


Castaways

by Lokisgame



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s02e17 End Game, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 19:12:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18079277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokisgame/pseuds/Lokisgame
Summary: Waiting is the hardest part.





	Castaways

Waiting is the hardest part. Watching the IV drip down the line, and into his vein, praying it works fast enough. He can breathe on his own by day 10, though his face never moves. Drug induced coma saves him from the pain. She sits by his bed, watching bruises fade, from red to purple to yellow to his basement pale. His lips are chapped, first from cold, then from tubes keeping him alive. The day those are gone, she asks for some ointment, Vaseline with vitamin A, basic, effective. Dabbing a small drop over his lip, she's gentle, a most-tender touch. Mulder's eyes move beneath his paper-thin eyelids.  
_Sleep,_ she thinks, smoothing his brow, _heal._ Time drips through the IV.  
She reads to him, books she finds in the lounge, courtesy of soldiers, who smile at her, wink and do their best to make her laugh. Sometimes she smiles back, on her way out from the mess hall. After a week, she catches jokes about a sleeping prince. She stops returning the sports section, the prince likes it.  
Body lives, even if the mind wanders through the land of dreams. First days of hospital rotation come back, caring for the sick, mess of the flesh, with all the grime and fluids and stink. She is his nurse sometimes, changing bandages, bags, IV's. They are guests here, castaways, on this island amongst snow. With the immediate danger passed, cause identified and treatments administered, all there is to do, is wait. She waits, keeps watch, prays, cares.  
One night, the nurse leaves her with a washcloth and a basin, rushing off to care for someone in greater need of her time. Scully feels the warm water through the bowl, the cloth jellyfish floating in faintly peach scented suds, then turns to the man.  
The need to apologise is as irrational as it is deep, emotions rattle like chattering teeth, her hands shake, but only slightly.  
"I'm sorry Mulder," she says quietly, toeing the taboo of intimacy. "It would be easier if you were awake, I would really love it, if you would distract me."  
Silence rang, powered by her heart, pumping all 1.3 gallons of blood through her cheeks. Water smelled nice, pleasantly warm. She knew the scent, since she's been using the same soap since she came here and stayed. Chasing the cloth around the basin, she stalled, mind blank, spinning like the cotton jellyfish, until it wrapped around her hand.  
It wasn't a thought, no conscious decision was made to wring out the rag just enough to not get the sheets wet. Starting with his face, she wiped his forehead and cheeks, then jaw and neck. Dipping the cloth again, moved on to shoulders, pulling the gown away to unhook the monitor cables before wiping his chest. Her hands steadied with purpose, going through motions of cleaning his arms and palms of his hands.  
Sheet got pushed out of the way along with modesty, as she used her skill and training to roll him to one side, gently wiping his back, glad there were no bedsores to worry about. She didn't flinch, seeing his bare ass, or the catheter. Careful but quick, she rolled him onto his back, and realised, something else. She was humming.  
"Oh, you would have a field day with this," she said, chuckling, wiping his thighs and calfs and feet. "The secret is out, I can't carry a tune, for the life of me." She smiled, looking up to his face from the foot of the bed, taking the gown the nurse brought as well.  
"Though, to be honest," she continued, sorting through wires and clipping them back where they belonged, "my dad didn't care, teaching me all the shanties he learned when he was just a recruit, himself."  
She glanced at the monitor, the line picking up again, saturation remained unchanged, but his heart rate, was slower, calmer. Puzzled, she pulled the fresh gown over his arms and torso, arranged the cables as neatly as possible, and finally draped the sheet back over his sleeping form, tucking in the blanket between the bed frame and mattress, with almost military precision of navy-trained nurses.  
The cloth and basin set aside, she sat by the bed, leaning against the mattress and sharing his pillow, gentle fingers brushing through his hair.  
"I guess you liked that too," she said quietly, and with hand never pausing, started humming softly, for Mulder's ears only.  
_Joy to the world, all the boys and all the girls…_

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Tumblr prompt and something I wanted to do in a long time.  
>  _Small one shot of Mulder having a nightmare and can’t relax so Scully sings joy to the world while he sleeps to calm him down ?_


End file.
